Astra's mind kicked into gear, half-formed observations knitting into pattern.

The same violet smoke coiled around Thomas, exactly as in the leaked footage. That alone confirmed it: Thomas wasn't in control. He answered to something else, something he called "My Lord" with far too much reverence.

Whatever clung to him was not human. What wasn't obvious was motive.

Why plant a proxy in a Senate race?

If the aim were simple influence, there were easier routes. Why choose Thomas, a nonentity until his sudden, frictionless rise? It had even risked exposure to boost him.

Unless the Senate seat was only a stepping‑stone.

A flicker of movement broke her train of thought. Across the mezzanine, she spotted Athena and Theo.

They passed a wine-soaked carpet and a splintered champagne glass. The manager stood tight-lipped while a server stumbled through excuses.

"You see, it's chemistry," the man babbled, wringing his hands. "White fabric and red wine: destined for each other, or for tragedy. Like star-crossed lovers."

Polite chuckles. A tic in the manager's eye.

Astra did not stay for the fallout when Theo and Athena reached her. She laced another ward round them.

Theo went straight to it. "You're certain?"

Athena's gaze sharpened. "The purple smoke. Around… him?"

Astra nodded. "Still want to confirm it yourself?"

"Yes," Athena said. "We need to trace the origin. If we rush, the entity could detach."

"Leaving him hollow like Tiffany," Theo finished.

"He knows what Athena can do," Astra warned. "He will be ready."

"I felt it already. It's there," Athena said. "We observe, confirm, then strike. The Senate race doesn't matter. The investigation does."

Theo weighed the risk. "All right. Keep the act alive. Signal when it's time."

"I'll stay here and keep him talking." Astra dropped the ward.

Theo opened the balcony door. Cold air rolled in, carrying twilight washed in violet and silver. Thomas leaned on the rail, circling his wine as if time were nothing.

When he turned, the smile was already set, as though he had expected them all along.

"Lady Van Nassau, Lord Whitlock. To what do I owe the pleasure?" He glanced at the darkening sky. "Surely not the weather."

Athena led. "Mr Blackwood, may we have a word?"

"No titles among friends." He lifted her hand to his lips. "Call me Thomas. We have met often enough."

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Athena smiled, just enough to keep it cordial. "Then it's Athena. Anything else will feel terribly one-sided."

"I trust you'll pardon my vanishing act earlier, Miss Athena. Managing this many egos is exhausting. I'm sure you understand."

Athena withdrew her hand with grace. "True. But the right company can be… rather refreshing when carefully selected."

Athena was already unpicking his defences for a deeper read.

Thomas's smile wavered slightly.

Theo stepped forward. "Theomund Whitlock."

Thomas drew out the name with mild amusement. "Lord Whitlock. A pleasure."

They shook hands. Theo's knuckles whitened and a shimmer skated over their palms.

A test.

Thomas did not flinch. He matched the pressure, then released only when Theo did. The ripple that followed clung visibly between them.

Theo narrowed his eyes. Thomas was compromised.

Astra watched with interest. There was clearly more to Theo than she had initially assumed. As heir to one of Silverkeep's great archducal houses, quick power play came naturally.

"I hear Silverkeep has been lively," Thomas said, raising his glass though Theo and Athena stood empty-handed. "Power shifts and changing alliances. It must keep things interesting for someone in your position, Lord Whitlock."

"I wouldn't know. I've kept out of it. My studies take my time."

"Unusual for a Whitlock," Thomas mused. "Knights and icecraft are your heritage. One would expect training, not reading. Especially so far from home."

There it was again: another probe, testing for soft spots. To their surprise, Theo removed his mask. His silver eyes were newly clear.

"I've come to believe knighthood is an anachronism," Theo said. "Perhaps that's why my father sent me to St. Kevin's. To learn what the future actually needs."

"The knight's honour is a fine legacy," he added. "Until it turns into an excuse never to change."

Athena blinked. Astra noted the change. It always struck her as odd when seeing Theo fight: chivalrous, disciplined, rigid. Traits bred into the Whitlock line. But now he sounded… transformed?

Thomas's eyes gleamed. "Some would call that heresy."

"Others call it progress," Theo answered.

Thunder cracked, pressure climbing.

"St Kelvin's promotes broader thinking," Athena reclaimed the conversation. "It frees him from old mistakes."

"Of course," Thomas said, taking a sip of wine. "How could I forget? My daughter once studied there."

"We all regret what happened," Athena replied, chin lifted.

"That unfortunate accident," Thomas said, shrugging. "I must apologise for my outburst then. I hope we have moved past it."

"Your anger was understandable," Athena said, gold eyes locking onto his.

Thomas inclined his head. "Your grace is noted."

To casual ears, it sounded like diplomacy. But Astra knew better. Athena was letting her Gift slip deeper. Unlike Adrian's flashy displays of voice-bound power, Athena's magic was subtle, silent. She wasn't just observing Thomas. She was unmaking him, slipping through mental barriers, peeling back layers, reaching for the core of his thoughts.

Even his memory.

A glass clinked nearby.

Astra's eyes darted briefly to a cleaner at the edge of the room, hastily sweeping up the shattered glass. It looked normal, after all, she was the one who had caused the wine spill. And the server, whether he knew it or not, had provided an excellent distraction.

Her eyes narrowed.

Was it a little too convenient?

Her mind drifted back to the manager's words, just before Athena and Theo had approached her:

You aren't supposed to be here.

Not supposed to be here? Because this floor was private?

Since when did staff deliver drinks to this level? The mezzanine was reserved for private conversations: senior delegates, major donors, high-stakes diplomacy.

It could've been an error. A newcomer unfamiliar with protocol.

Or it wasn't.

She didn't like convenient coincidences. Especially not tonight.

Astra reached outward with her senses. Something dark had lingered here. Not Thomas. Something else.

She muttered a curse under her breath. She'd been too focused on him. And missed the second variable.

Where was that server?

Astra turned toward the stairs, ready to track them down. Then, she froze.

Was this all meant to mislead her? To pull her away from Thomas?

She'd missed something. Something big.

The race didn't matter. Not really. Thomas already had the upper hand. The odds were in his favour.

So what was the endgame?

Did Athena and Theo have a part to play?

If Thomas knew the full extent of their powers, then—

Damn it.

The clock on the wall read 6:55.

Five minutes until Thomas took the stage. Five minutes to stop whatever was about to happen. Or walk straight into it.

Trap.

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